After the Epilogue
by Zwei Shonagon
Summary: The new presence of a mortal deadline means that there's less to little time for mourning. Kaname Kuran lives.


Summary: The new presence of a deadline means that there's less to little time for mourning. Kaname Kuran lives.

Author's Note: I never really liked Vampire Knight. The plot was convoluted, almost stupid at times, and the characters were hopelessly inconsistent. Nevertheless, it was dream heart-stop beautiful. So when I heard Hino Matsuri had finally ended it, I had to skim the ending, if only to know what happened to those fragile creatures. It was a satisfying enough ending, but of course, the fanfic author always wants more.

Disclaimer: Not and never will be mine.

Dedication: To those who have waited.

* * *

**After The Epilogue**

* * *

The sun is bright. Warm.

Kaname Kuran breathes. The assault on the senses—the grit of stone, dust, and age and the way the gravel moans as he shifts upright—confirms what the sun has already told him.

The world seems different. He, Kaname Kuran, is different.

The two other beings in the cavern do not move, only watch as he slowly stands. If he was who he once was, he wouldn't even have to move to know what they are. As it is, Kaname has to squint, has to think, before he realizes.

Bone-structure-wise, the girl is all Yuuki, if Yuuki had curly hair. This girl could never been mistaken for Yuuki however. Her gaze is deep where Yuuki was guileless, knowing where Yuuki was shamelessly innocent. She has his eyes, his resentment, and the Kuran power. As for the other, there will never be enough years for Kaname forgot Zero's face.

"Your name, daughter," Kaname orders even as he eyes the silver-haired boy, who, although still and silent, is not vampire-still. He is as human as Kaname is.

"Kaname Juuri," his daughter responds. "I suppose I ought to say good morning."

It's a soft voice, almost like Yuuki's, but with all of Zero's sharpness. There is no question who her other "father" was, and for all her politeness, Juuri is not welcoming.

"Kiryuu Kaien," his daughter's half-brother mutters, strangely more shy than rude.

Kaname may be human, but he still has his ageless mind. And so, he stays silent rather than ask questions for which there are no easy or good answers.

* * *

Kaname burns.

"You'll need to put aloe vera on that," his daughter says, from the shadow of the bathroom door.

Kaname flicks his eyes from his reflected nose—pink, blistering— to meet Juuri's gaze in the mirror. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask how his beautiful vampire daughter would know of such human things, before he remembers her half-brother.

"Ah."

One week out of the grave, and Kaname has learnt the sun is not only warm, but that it is also harsh. Kaname's skin was never meant to exist outside of night, and so the consequences are doubly painful.

"The sunscreen is on the top shelf," Juuri points.

Kaname glances up and left just slightly, just momentarily, but when he looks back again, Juuri is gone. Human senses are vivid but limiting, and although Kaname constantly tries, he cannot follow Juuri's inhuman grace, speed, and silence. It's disconcerting, almost as much as her barely veiled hostility.

Kaname had tried to seek Juuri in the beginning. For the first week, he had kept his eyes persistently open, but every time he glimpsed so much as her back or a strand of shimmery black hair, she would disappear. It had gotten to the point Kaname was sure she was taunting him. If Juuri wanted to, with her senses, she could exit long before he appeared.

And so Kaname gives up. Instead, he spends his time wandering the gardens, in the dawn and afternoon sunlight. Sometimes, he even walks about in the twilight, which is familiar enough to a vampire powerful enough to withstand minimal sun, but even so, it is different. While he couldn't smell the deep wet soil as strongly now, he could stare at the flowers without squinting, could observe how their colors seemed to burst into flame underneath the setting sun. Sometime, Kaname would even raise a hand to his chest, where his heart pumps steadily, even through the steady ache that is Yuuki-not-here.

"Mother planted those," Kaien says one day, when he catches Kaname peering at a patch of garden that wasn't there before.

"_Myosotis_," Kaname says lowly, half to himself, half for the listener's sake. "Forget-me-nots."

"Yes." Kaien waits just long enough before he asks, "What do you want for lunch?"

For better or worse, it is Kiryu Kaien who has been the accepting, even helpful one. It is Kaien who follows Kaname about, telling him about this new technology and that new development, and these are Kaname's papers, and he could enroll in university if he wanted, although he's sure Kaname doesn't need the learning.

The papers. There was a final letter there written in a firm, elegant hand that belied the woman Yuuki had become all those years while Kaname was asleep, even as she continued to exist in his memories and in pictures as an eternally girlish child-goddess.

'Live well, 'Yuuki pens sweetly, but strongly. 'And Juuri is a bit prickly, so handle with a bit of care. She'll come around though.'

It takes Kaname another two weeks before he finally confronts the boy.

"I know Juuri is angry but Mother was," Kaien hesitates. "Mother was…happy. I think. At the end. And Father's been gone for a while anyway."

Kaname wonders what went through Yuuki and Zero's mind, to name her children after ghosts. Although Kaien is quick to frown, he's also inherited the gentleness of his namesake.

"You are human." Kaname states.

"Yes," Zero's son replies easily. "I was a vampire for the first seventy years, but then I took the serum. They wanted it that way."

"And do you?"

Kaien shrugs. "I'm alright. I'm afraid it'll be lonely for Juuri though."

A human's lifespan is only so long.

* * *

If Kaname had his choice, he would spend at least a hundred years mourning Yuuki, but he didn't have the time. Even in his grief, Kaname knew it would be spitting on Yuuki's memory (and the heart that beats in his chest) if he were to pass too many years in tears.

Yuuki had wanted him to go to university. It's obvious enough in his prepared identification papers, where Kaname's listed as twenty (which is only off by a multiple of five and several thousand). There's even a promissory letter from a university chairman named Cross.

Thousands of years, and some things never changed.

"Kuran-sama," the Chairman greets when they first meet. He knows.

"Just Kaname, please," Kaname answers with a wave of his hand as he takes a seat. He meets the Chairman's gaze evenly and does not fidget as the Chairman stares at him over the glint of his glasses. This Chairman has darker hair, a rounder face, and a softer body. Times have clearly been more peaceful.

"You know, you're a legend in my family," the Chairman says. "The most powerful Pureblood to ever exist, at least in recorded history."

Kaname's eyes widen slightly before flattening. "Perhaps."

"How are you?" the Chairman asks. He's a bit more direct than the old Chairman, doesn't mince his words as much. One could call it rude, but Kaname finds it efficient.

"Better," Kaname answers slowly. "I am better."

Chairman Cross does not press further. "Yuuki-sama thought the university environment would ease your transition. I was worried that the usual antics of the younger generation would prove…trying for someone such as yourself—"

Kaname waved his hand again. "I am not concerned."

"She did say patience was one of your better virtues."

"She would know."

The Chairman chuckled. "Somehow, I am not surprised."

They talk of trivialities for the rest of the meeting. Through it all, Kaname could feel the man testing him, probing. Kaname does not rise to the bait. While the old Chairman had experienced all the realities and vagaries of the world, this Chairman was a pure scholar, with a scholar's blindness to the real danger of baiting a Kuran.

"Ah, Kaname-san," the Chairman finally says, when he's realized he would get nothing out of the thousands-year-old human.

"Yes?"

"Welcome back."

It's enough to make Kaname pause. "Thank you."

* * *

Although he's lost the vampiric perfection, Kaname is still devastating handsome.

"Kaname-sama!"

Truly, some things never change. And yet, some things do. For some reason—probably because he's not radiating instinctive death—the young women are persistent in ways they never were, following him from class to class, swarming his table at lunch. Even the library proves unsafe, which forces Kaname to seek near-constant refuge in his dorm room.

Juuri finds the whole situation hilarious.

"You know, you could just let them pamper you," she says in one of her rare visits. Although she comes of her volition, there's always an air of unwilling resentment. Kaname suspects it is Kaien who guilt-trips her into these feeble shows of filial piety.

"That would be bothersome," Kaname says calmly, not even looking up from his book.

Juuri snorts. "Really?"

"Really," Kaname repeats firmly.

"Suit yourself." It isn't that his daughter is malicious, it's just that she's careful and good at compartmentalizing between people and the populace. Kaname understands. He's like that himself.

Juuri picks up one of the books lying about Kaname's desk. "History?"

"What better way than to make up the last thousand years?"

"Fair enough."

"Are you well?" Kaname inquires.

Juuri is visibly startled. "As fine as I can be," she snaps. Juuri is Kuran, the last Kuran in a world of ever fewer Purebloods and ever fiercer politics.

"I see," Kaname says gently, but carefully. The last time Kaname had tried to intervene, Juuri had snarled, "You have no place in it." It is a true enough statement. Kaname has no place in vampire affairs now. If anything, he's deadweight, a human weakness to Juuri's Pureblood power.

"Worry about yourself," Juuri says for good measure.

Kaname flips to the next page. When he remembers to look up, Juuri is gone. It's been a long time Kaname's nose was fine enough to catch a lingering scent, and so, if he doesn't think about it too hard, it is as if she was never there.

* * *

Kaname Kuran has just finished his first year of university when Aidou Hanabusa tracks him down.

"I wasn't going to die before seeing you again," Hanabusa says with an old man's smile and a young man's twinkle.

The other students swirl by, surprised, but not exactly perturbed by the sight of a well-dressed old man. If he seems a bit more eerie, a bit more creepy, a bit paler than normal, well, academia always attracted the weird sort. He was probably some professor, the students whisper amongst themselves. Eeven the most eccentric professor tended to emerge out of their hidey-holes for summer vacation.

Kaname smiles.

"How are you?"

"Serving your daughter well. Or at least, I hope so. She's almost as inscrutable as you sometimes."

"That would be Juuri."

"And here I thought she would be as cute as her mother," Hanabusa sighs. His canine flash in the twilight. "But now, let's go get a drink. I have some six hundred year old wine I've been meaning to get to."

* * *

Even without wine, Hanabusa was always a talker.

"A fantastic year, isn't it?"

Kaname raises his glass in agreement. "I'm glad I didn't miss it."

"This is actually from Shiki's stock. He willed me his cellar, if you would believe it."

"Oh?"

"His daughter didn't drink, so—" Hanabusa shrugged. "A shame. Anyway, Rima and Shiki have been gone for a while. Rima got sick, and well, Shiki wasn't one to stick around without her. Ichijou is somewhere; he's never really been the same since that Shirabuki girl died. You just missed Ruka and Akatsuki. They died just ten years ago."

"I see." Kaname takes slow sips,

"You know, they decided to spend their last few years as humans. Just to see what it feels like, they said."

"Ah?"

"Mmhm. So what are you studying?"

"History."

"You always did like to read. I can't say holing up in this library is good for you though."

"I'll survive," Kaname says. "And that sounds a bit hypocritical, coming from a scientist such as yourself."

"Are you—Are you flattering me, Kaname-sama?" Hanabusa asks with a dramatic gasp.

Kaname hides his smile behind the crystal tumbler.

Hanabusa gives a half-smile. "You were pretty close. I just had to unlock the final key, which meant more time in the laboratory than the library really."

"I know."

"Have you ever wondered," Hanabusa hesitates. "If things would have been different if you'd found the cure earlier?"

It doesn't escape Kaname's notice that Hanabusa refers to the serum as a cure, as if vampirism is an illness. And perhaps it is.

I wonder what Yuuki thought.

"Sometimes," Kaname murmurs. "But hindsight is unforgiving."

"So it is," Hanabusa agrees. "Don't worry, I get it—you can't live very long if you don't accept that fact of life."

* * *

"Kaname-sama." The title is a bit absurd given Hanabusa is now the one who can break Kaname with a finger, but Kaname doesn't question.

"Yes?"

"I think this is the last time I'll see you." Hanabusa says in a matter-of-fact way. "I'm going to see the world like Yori saw it. While I still can."

It's hard to find the right words. "Thank you," Kaname finally says. "For taking care of my family all these years."

"We're friends, neh?"

"Yes," Kaname says simply, but Hanabusa is already turning away, his gray-streaked hair bouncing with every stride.

* * *

Kaname returns home every vacation. Juuri says nothing the first summer, to the second, but a month into the third summer, she sweeps into his room and interrupts a chess game.

"Don't you have friends?" Juuri demands just as Kaname captures Kaien's queen.

"Damn," Kaien whistles through his teeth. It's hard to tell whether he's referring to the game or Juuri.

"Since when did daughters worry about their father's social lives?" Kaname inquires.

"Since their fathers are thousand-year-old-widowers," Juuri snaps.

"Damn," Kaien repeats.

"Juuri," Kaname says slowly. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"You know, Mother didn't expect you to live like a monk for the rest of your life," Juuri says acidly. "And don't think I like this conversation any more than you do!"

Juuri slams the door on her way out. She leaves behind a silence that is finally broken by another low whistle.

"If I'm not mistaken," Kaien says slowly. "I think your daughter just told you to get laid."

If Kaname was still a Pureblood vampire, he would made Kaien stand with a bucket on his head, like Hanabusa used to do. As it is, Kaname throws the chess piece at the brat.

* * *

Aidou sends him one last present.

By this time, Kaname is "twenty four" with a bachelor's degree to his name and a graduate student's salary to his bank account. As teaching assistant, he's entitled to a desk in one of the university's many dusty offices.

Kaname's only warning is a whispered, "You lucky dog," by his office-mate—bespectacled and baby-face Kageyama Hiro—before she strolls into his office.

"Kuran-san?"

It doesn't take more than a glance for Kaname to tell that the young woman at his door isn't a fan girl. Although she's informally dressed in a light blue dress with little leather heels, she holds herself too tall and too comfortably for Kaname to imagine her doing something as petty as stalking.

Plus, with her long vibrant honey brown hair, and lazy amber eyes, she's too pretty to be a mere fangirl.

"Yes?" Kaname stands, out of a mix of chivalric habit and special courtesy. Upright, she comes to his nose.

"My name is Ushio. Ushio Kain." Her handshake is as cool as her gaze. "My uncle asked me to drop something off for you."

"Your uncle?"

"Hanabusa Aidou?"

"Ah." Juuri had mentioned something a while back. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's fine. He was…ready. Anyhow, he left you something in his will."

Kaname nods but doesn't touch the package she leaves on his desk.

"I'm sorry to come without prior notice." Her gaze warms just slightly out of bashfulness. "But Kaien said you wouldn't mind."

"Ah."

"This is my phone number. Call me if you have any questions."

Kaname doesn't stop her from leaving.

"You're an idiot," Kageyama Hiro hisses.

Kaname answers more for Hiro's sake than his. "Spontaneity has its charms, but, that, my friend," Kaname enunciates slowly, "is not a woman you pursue unprepared."

Besides, there is a Kaien to straighten out first.

* * *

"Well?" Kaien asks blatantly.

"Someone looks too pleased with himself."

"She's hot. I'll take her if you won't."

Kaname considers Kaien for a moment. "Something tells me you've already tried."

"Wrong timing," Kaien answers easily enough. "At least, that's what she said. I think she doesn't like my guns. Are you going to open the package?"

"Out."

"Make me."

"I'll tell Juuri how you really crashed her car."

Thousands of years old, and Kaname is still not above blackmail.

* * *

Inside the box, there is a disc and a note.

_She's a bit prickly, but the good ones always are._

"Meddlesome," Kaname mutters underneath his breath. "Brats, all of them."

* * *

Author's Note: Originally a one shot, but it made more sense to split it into two chapter. As always, reviews are appreciated.


End file.
